


Children of A Lesser God

by Big_Diesel



Category: The Loud House (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Blackmail, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brother/Sister Incest, Caught, Cheating, Come Marking, Coming In Pants, Consensual Infidelity, Consensual Non-Consent, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Doubt, Drama, Dream Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Infidelity, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotionally Repressed, Enemas, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Femdom, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Guilty Pleasures, Harems, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Lesbian Sex, Masturbation, Mind Manipulation, Multi, Netorare, POV First Person, Panties, Porn With Plot, Psychological Drama, Religious Conflict, Religious Guilt, Romance, Scents & Smells, Self-Denial, Self-Doubt, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Repression, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Stream of Consciousness, Suspense, Threesome - F/F/M, Underwear Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-09-20 04:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9475919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Big_Diesel/pseuds/Big_Diesel
Summary: How do you know when you feel it in the air? How do you know when you feel it in your voice? When do you know when you like someone? And once you get that feeling, is it acceptable to love that person. Rather it is a girl? A boy? An older person? A younger person? Even someone in your own family? Step into the world of Lincoln's battle with his spirit and his lust.





	1. Grey Skies

How do you know when you feel it in the air? How do you know when you feel it in your voice? What signs gives the ability to take the forward steps? Once we take those forward steps, which path is suitable for us? Is it smooth? Treacherous? Mountainous? I have always been one-tracked when making decisions? Similar when discussing the main topic and have the supporting details to back it up. That is my style. That is how I am built. But, hell, even manufacturers can produce errors and recalls. Can a human do the same as well?

I have always asked these pertinent, off-centered questions. I guess that is the reason why I was labeled a genius. At least that was what according to the doctors and the therapists explained to my parents. I pictured their face. Mouths agape and dry like the pale brown color of the doctor's office. I was there. The carpet smelled like old coffee. There were white, crusty dry patches there as well. He should really consider in investing a vacuum cleaner or a housekeeper.

I am kidding. I am not a genius. At least in my mind, I am. It's okay to dream.

Excuse me for my chuckling. I think it is okay to laugh for a change. There is nothing wrong with laughter. It fills the body with joy. Gives us the agility to know there is a way out at the end of the road. Even if that road was invisible, there is some chance of meeting its finite.

Once again, my questions. How do you know when you feel it in the air? How do you know when you feel it in your voice. The feelings envelop me like a soft and warm blanket; wrapped and individually stitched with love around you. Made from a mother, a grandmother, better yet, a woman of your desire.

Speaking of desire, a strong word indeed. How can one desire something? Of course, many people will have a variety of explanations to determine their cause. However, how do you really _desire_ someone? Do you catch feelings? Your heart beats? Your stomach churns? Is that the desire based on need? Want? Love? Lust? The bible that sits beside my nightstand tells me that no one should love or desire something more than the Lord. In fact, I believe it qualifies in one of the deadly seven sins.

Not being a skeptic, or at least in front of my parents, how can be resoluted? It is here on Earth, but yet again it is considered wrong. Maybe it depends. I guess for it is long that it is not similar in the covenants of God, then we are okay. Are we?

Do you feel it in the air? Do you feel it in your voice? Like a siren in those Greek mythology books, I read in school. The enchantress entrances you in song. Following you along to the ends until you meet your doom. Are those serenades sweet? My God with the questions.

That is my mindset, ladies and gentlemen. I rationalize things. The gift and the fallacy of being a genius (in my own mind). Now, us geniuses are no different than everybody else. We eat, sing, shout, cry, love the same way. Of course, we have a schematic of differences. I imagine blueprints similar to the cooky, quirky individual from a well-known television show based on the origins of the Earth.

What I am trying to get is that how do you know when you feel it in the air? When do you feel it in your voice? When do you know when you like someone?

And once you get that feeling, is it acceptable to love that person. Rather it is a girl? A boy? An older person? A younger person? Even someone in your own family?

No, no. I shouldn't think that way. It is not right. It is unnatural and it is a sin.

 _If no one knows, then it is not a secret._ That inner voice in my head. Reminds me so much of the serpent from the book of Genesis. I read the Bible from time to time. Especially when I feel conflict with temptation.

 _Who is going to know that you feel this way_? My mind reels itself again. Parasitic as it wraps inside and encloses you. There is no symbiotic relationship. No love, just pure lust of the flesh.

 _Loving someone should not matter. Especially if that love is of a someone of the same blood_.

Get out of my head, damn it. I shouldn't have to feel this way. It is not right. This is wrong.

_Wrong. In your Bible, family members got together and have children. What about then is so different than today?_

That is because it was different. It was in the needs of procreating. Not lust.

_Are you sure?_

Sure, it is pure fact. The Bible tells us so.

_Poor Lincoln. The Bible is device constructed by man to make gullible fools like you on not having an enjoyable life. Do you actually take that stuff word for word?_

Yes. Yes, I do. It gives me hope and protection. To help me overcome that lust.

_Yeah, yeah. How is that working out? Don't think I didn't see you standing in the laundry room. I believe that you had your hands on her "delicates?"_

I was only sorting out laundry.

_Laundry? Right? So, I guess inhaling her soiled panties was a method of curing your impurities? Lincoln, you are a good time. I will tell you that._

Why should I care what you think? You don't exist. You are not real. Just a thought in my imagination.

_Oh, Lincoln. I am realer than it gets. I am you. The real you who knows you. Your wants. Your needs. Your desires?_

As much I may have these thoughts of her. I don't see her in that fashions. She is my sister for goodness sake.

_Keep telling yourself that, Lincoln. By the way. Nice touch on inhibiting the name of God. Not keeping that in vain like your lie, huh?_

Fuck you. I scream out loud.

_Tell that to your sister. Tell that to the multitudes of garment you have soiled. The amount of minutes and hours and days and weeks you confined yourself to the room to relieve your stress. The thoughts of her in her bathing suit, or lack thereof. When you take peeks under her skirt during dinner or when you are "falling asleep." You may fool yourself, but I know what you like and crave, Lincoln. We are one in the same. One in the same._

No, no. I scream again. I don't like her like that. You are lying.

There is no one there. I sit on the stairwell screaming at an apparition that does not even exist. I clench my fist in frustration. My eyes are narrow. As tight as my face is, I keep telling myself it is not true. It is not true.

I get up from the stairwell and make my way upstairs. My usual route. I pass through my sisters' bedrooms and go into my room. My domicile. My sanctuary. The place where I can be Lincoln Loud.

I step inside of the bedroom and threw my backpack beside the bed. The room scheme was gray, similar to what I am feeling right now. Rain is in the forecast. I can feel it. I can sense it. The day is still young.

I had time to take care of business before they return home.

On the nightstand, the Bible stands proud. Awaiting for me whenever troubles come deep. My oasis from the world. My verbal melody from heaven.

I turn it over. Quietly asking God for forgiveness.

_One in the same. One in the same._

One in the same, I say. I get out of my bed and shut the door. I lock the door to ensure nobody disturbs me. I return to my bed. It was soft. A huge contrast for my stiffened heart. I reach under the sheets of my bed to retrieve an item for my "encounter."

I have a lump in my throat. It is not too late. The Bible is right there. I can save myself from damnation. It is not too late.

A strong scent of my item enters my nose. It blockades any of my inhibitions. The throbbing feeling between my lions awakens.

Forgive me, Lord.

I took off my pants and neatly place them on the nightstand. That way the Bible won't see my shame. I keep my boxers on. Just in case if I am interrupted. I sigh as I take a good scent of my fallacy. The forbidden sin. The lust that confides hidden in the small and detriment compartment of my heart. The missing delicate of Lucy's panties.

They were black. The color of her clothes. The color of her personality. The color of my shame. The color of my regret. The color of my lust.

I won't explain how I got them or when I got them. I already have enough darkness within myself to hate.

_What are you waiting for, Lincoln? Consume the lust of your dear Lucy._

I whispered to Lucy and God for forgiveness. There is a place in Hell for people like me. The demons applaud as I glide my hand to my dick.

The thoughts of her appear. That alone is enough to arouse my dick.

I grip on the shaft and began massaging my dick. It doesn't take long until I saw precum leaking from its silt. I ingest her scent as I start playing with my dick.

I rub the phallus, making my dick sensitive. I picture my thoughts on Lucy performing this. No, no, no. I can't. Her panties are enough. They are enough because any further, then it will become worse.

_Keep telling your Lincoln. Indulge. Indulge. Indulge. Show your little sister on how she can work your dick._

No.

_You crave her, don't you? Wanting her to prance around with nothing but a t-shirt and her black panties. Maybe some stockings. Better yet, maybe naked in your room. You can play some music. Maybe something to get her comfortable. She can wear black lipstick. Serenade in her in the glad tithings of Hawthorne and Poe. Maybe some Slayer. Get her comfortable. You enjoy. She enjoys. You get her all wet._

Shut up!

_You kiss her neck. She flinches. She protests, but you keep going. You aim for her neck._

Shut up!

_You continue sliding your tongue to her breasts. You can her ragged breath saying 'Big brother, don't do this. Don't do this. This is not right…_

Shut up! Shut the hell up!

By this time, my thrust is getting faster. I let out a sharp cry as I am moaning under my breath.

Lucy. Lucy. Lucy. Lucy.

_That's right. Scream out the name of your beloved, you pervert._

Shut up!

_You sick bastard!_

Leave me alone!

_How can I? When I am you._

Fuck you!

_Save that for your sister._

I am hearing her voice. The soothing darkened voice that is my Lucy.

"Lincoln, faster. Oh my God, Lincoln. Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck your little sister!"

No, no, Lucy. This is wrong. This is not right.

I am coming. I tremble as I climax all over myself. As I relaxed, I saw my hand covered in semen. Covered in my shame.

I want to cry. I have committed a sin. A sin, that I am not ready to admit. I grab the tissues from my nightstand to wipe my hands. I have hidden the panties back in the secret place. I retrieve my pants and turn over my Bible.

I sat on the bed with many different thoughts. It leaves me empty. Want kind of person feels this way.

"Lincoln, are you home?"

I hear my mother knock on my door.

"I am home," I respond.

"The girls and I are back with lobster. Do you want some?"

"Yes, ma'am. Be out in a minute."

I sigh as I get out of bed. Before I open the door, I hear my thought.

_What am I trying to get is that how do you know when you feel it in the air? When do you feel it in your voice? When do you know when you like someone?_

_And once you get that feeling, is it acceptable to love that person. Rather it is a girl? A boy? An older person? A younger person? Even someone in your own family?_

_Especially when you are interested in Lucy._

It's not true, I lament. It's not true.

I walk outside of my room with hunger in my stomach and denial in my brain.


	2. Two in the Mist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, Big Diesel here. Here is another chapter of Children of A Lesser God. As a reminder, I do not support and/or endorse voyeurism or any kind of deviant sexual acts. This is a work of fiction. If you are able to deviate fiction from fantasy, then please continue to read. Enjoy and God bless!
> 
> .

I am sitting in a dark room. No, I am lying. I am lying in bed in a dark room. My eyes gradually adjust to the darkness. It is where I can covert myself without being seen. It is where I can commit my sin without being watch. It is a blessing to be one of a couple of males in a house full of women. The thought of a boy sharing a room full of sisters were very doubtful. I mean, eventually we will reach an age in which we will become teenagers. We will reach an age where we will become curious about our own bodies. With that even includes interest in the opposite sex.

My parents were not going to take that chance. And thus is why I have my own room.

Mom and Dad, you did the right thing. You did exactly the right thing.

I reach for the garment that perpetuates my urges. Yes, that is a preferrable word. In order to do these kinds of things, something has to set you off. However, I stop myself. Not this time, I grunt.

The soft satin sheets help serenades the feeling of a woman's gentle touch. As a young man, I garner for the desire of a soft, delicate woman's touch. I imagine sometimes a girl running her fingertips against my spine. Why of all places, I don't know. I know I am cooing to her as she does this sensual pleasure. I cringe in the pleasure of her tickling me. It entrances me, leaving my breath ragged. Leaving me with the desire for more.

Why am I lying? It isn't just a girl. It is Lucy. It has always been Lucy.

I also think about Ronnie Anne from time to time. Most of the time, I have imagined giving me a blowjob. She is one of my material when I do my "act." I have imagined if we were to do it, it would be in her house. It would be in her bedroom. I had the entire thing plan and calculated. I am in her bedroom. She takes off her jacket because she is hot. I tried to relax myself knowing that she is exposing her slender arm. Her dark skin matches the feeling and desires in my heart. The darkening sin that relishes within me. It gives me the urges to attack her right on the spot. However, I hold back. Let her be the one to take the league. She is more dominant than I. If she wants it bad, then I know it will be inevitable. She has urges as much as I do.

She relaxes and we begin studying. I play nonchalant and relax on the bed. I watch her behind me on her chair doing her homework. I pretend to study, but I am watching her movements. Her breath is a bit heavier when she concentrates on her schoolwork. Maybe it is some kind of mechanism. Unsure, but I like how she breathes. She reminds me that she is human. A human such as myself. Full of life, hopes, dreams, desires, and lust.

I have imagined that she becomes tense. Frustrated with such a task at hand. Although she is typing hard with her keystrokes on the laptop, there was a certain key I possess that does not mind doing a little stroking of its own.

Lord, forgive this son of a sinner. Forgive me for my transgressions. It is hard to overcome lust, especially for a teenaged boy. Her hair flowing from the back like a river of silk. It is so rich that I envy its fibers for residing on such a creature like Ronnie Anne. A fallible, wretched creature that I call my own. She is a muse. Just a muse for the things I want to do with her.

My loins ache for her touch. Her body matching my tempo and vice versa. My imagination is at a comedown. Especially when she turns around and sees my aching erection protruding from my pants.

Of course, she laughs and jeers. But only for a moment. A face changes expressions when she sees that I am unfazed of her amusement. All I want at this moment in time is her. And why not? She is cute. And she plays the role of my girl until I am able to understand these feelings.

You would think she freak out, but she doesn't. Instead, she edges over my erection. She studies it. After observing my throbbing manhood, she slaps me. I am accustomed to her slaps, admiring the pain of her love and her affection.

"God, you are a weirdo." She would say, exposing her mischievous grin.

I politely respond. "Yeah, we weirdos clean up nice." That is right, Ronnie Anne. I am using your catchphrase against you. However, she does not become offended. Instead, it makes her smile wider.

"You really want to have a good time with a girl like me," she asks me.

"I can't imagine any other girl to do it with," I respond.

Of course, I lied. There are plenty of others. But, I do not have the guts to tell her the truth. Honestly, I think she knows it. She might have the same feelings like me on the situation. If so, birds of a feather flock together.

She turns from her chair and slowly unzips her sweatshirt, exposing her plain t-shirt. Her small nipples protrude nicely. I want to put my mouth on those tits. I want to claim responsibility on teething those tits. I want it so much that I hope that milk produces from there. God, I am such a pervert.

She is slow with it. Why not? It only intensifies our teasing. Damn, what a tease she can be.

My dick beats harder at my pants than my own heartbeat. She drops the sweatshirt and then aims for her shorts. She licks her lips as she takes it off, showing me her slender legs in the process. Those legs are legs of a model, legs of an athlete. They are legs of a woman.

Before long, she is wearing nothing but her t-shirt and her purple panties.

"Do you want to take me away, you weirdo," she asks me while my mouth waters over on partaking this girl.

My breath becomes ragged. "If you want me to," I respond.

She moans. "I don't mind a loser like you taking me away. Especially if it is you, Lincoln Loud," she says very seductively. There is so much emphasis on how she said my name. It is not the typical greeting of a friend. It is the invitation of letting me know that she is going to get busy with me.

She better have her schedule clear because this appointment is going to take quite some time.

Lord, forgive this sinner. Especially when I am drunk under the devil's nectar. Now, I am sounding like a Southern Baptist. And this is coming from a boy who lives in the Midwest.

The demons applaud as I awaiting her entrance. She sways her hips to me. I move back to the bed, trying my hardest to maintain composure. However, it does not work. Her eyes tell me that she knows I talk a big game. She looks at my dick. By now, fluids seeps onto my pants. She licks her lips. Her body shows hunger and I am on the menu.

"I hope you are cream-filled," she says. "Because I am in the mood for dessert."

As soon as she laces her hot breath on my throbbing manhood, I erupt. Not in her mouth. Not in her novice pussy. But in the confinements and safety net of my pants and my boxers, respectively.

Failure to launch.

Before you know it, everything disappears. I am not in Ronnie Anne's room. She is not here displaying her lustrous body. I am all alone, lying in a dark room. The only thing that is coated is my sheets.

I remove my hand from my nether area and use tissues to wipe my shame. I then retrieve it into the trash can. I turn over my Bible again. And of course, with the hand that has not been corrupted.

"At least my thoughts were not on Lucy this time," I say to myself.

The sound of rain is falling from the sky. The droplets cast a reflection on the window and are making shadow puppets also. They are performing beautifully, I think to myself. Hopefully, this rain is not tears of shame from the Lord. I mean, he is present when I am involved doing this "act."

Tonight, I did not use the garment that entices my urges. Earlier that evening, I have spied on her from her room. She was nestled into the corner. She was sitting cross-legged and reading one of her books. She was reading the _Tell-Tale Heart_ , an Edgar Allan Poe classic. With her interest in gothic material and Transcendentalism, she easily escapes into that world. So much so, she did not even know that I was in the crack of the door. Our family was downstairs watching their favorite television program. Lucy was not the type to be involved. Sometimes, she prefers to be alone. On this night, I decided to do the same thing.

Her eyes were transfixed. I can imagine she was enraptured by the creativity of how these authors can influence such a nature that she can be. She was enamored. She desired the love, the beauty, and the art of it just like I regrettably desire the likes of her.

So, here we were. She is relaxed. I am relaxed. Any moment, I had hoped that she exposed her panties to me. Show me something, I have thought. Give me something. Just something.

_I find it amazing, Lincoln, that you are doing such a thing._

"What are you talking about. What thing? I am just curious on what my sister is doing?"

_Taking a peek at your sister's panties is such curiosity. I am intrigued by your discovery. Excuse me, exploration of her womanhood._

Sweat beamed from my forehead. Have my thoughts took advantage of my transgressions.

"I am not playing with this. I was not taking a peek. She is my sister for goodness sake."

_I like how she does not have a clue that her dear and only brother is only inches away from her. As she enjoying her book on the art of macabre literature, you are enjoying the fruits of getting that itch in your pants for your sister's nectar._

"I don't have to take this! This is nonsense. Do you think I would do such a thing to such an angel?"

_Yes, Lincoln. To make matters interesting, she is wearing some sexy, black panties. Sort of similar to the panties that you have in your…._

I hit the wall, "Fuck off," I shouted.

Her eyes darted at the crack. I left the instant she laid those eyes. Did she see me? I hoped not. I ran as quickly as I could. I darted into my room and locked the door. I reached under my bed for her panties and relieved any stress out of my brain.

And as always at its end, I balled my fist around it. I would scream any profanities of hatred towards myself and my thoughts.

_It is only a matter of time before you want her. Just looking over her is not enough, Lincoln._

I sat there frustrated and angry that I was driven to tears. I then look into scripture to find my ways of fighting my urges.

So, I lied. I did use her garment earlier that evening, but not at this particular session.

I sit on the bed. I must discard these boxers in the laundry room before my parents find out. I slowly tiptoed out of the room and entered the hallway. The clock on the wall displays its hands at a quarter past three.

I make my way towards the stairs into the living room. I make myself alert. I don't want anybody knowing my usual treks in the middle of the night.

After a couple of moments, I make my way to the laundry room. I turn on the sink and apply soap to the semen-soaked boxers. I did circular rings around it. I get that kind of maneuver from my mother. I am of a mother's boy. A pitiful, wretched, perverted mama's boy who desires his sister and cleans his shame in the middle of the night.

When the work is finish, I jam it deep into the hamper. I hope that my mother just throws it all in without looking. I hope so, at least. Now, I return back to my room.

I make my way upstairs and back into the hallway. I stop for a moment. I am back in front of the door that leads to Lucy's room. I use my hand to touch the door. It is hard like the feeling of my heart and the budding erection in my pants. I whisper a prayer of self-control before heading back to my room.

As I return to my domicile, or often my personal hell, I sit against the door. Tears started to flow from my eyes. There is a lump in my throat. The thoughts of fear of being discovered loom in my hypocritical, sinful, perverted mind.

"Father God, forgive me for I have sinned," I cry. "Lord, you knows the desires of my heart. You know how the flesh conflicts the spirit. You know my heart is in the right place." I get on my knees. Kneeling before a God I hope that can forgive me. "I can't help it. This sin I am doing. This is wrong, but I don't know what to do."

Tears drip from my eyes to the floor. It makes a slight pitter-patter sound. My hands tremble in anguish, in regret, in general.

"I want to stop, but don't know what to do? Where to begin. She can't know. She must not know."

"She can't know what?"

Who is that? A voice comes out of nowhere from my room. I tilt my head. My eyes dart for the source of the noise.

"I am coming from right here," says the voice.

I look up. It is coming from my bed. I see her. I can't see her fully, but I can see the smile on her face.

My face becomes flushed. My body is tensed. When my eyes become better adjusted. I can't believe myself when I notice that is Lori standing in front of me. And not only that. Swirling around in her finger is the garment of my shame.

"Lori," my voice is choked. I am frozen. Not only because of the situation but knowing that my secret is been exposed.

I can hear the demons applauding from the lowest depths of hell.

"Lincoln, Lincoln, Lincoln," she says in a strong demeaning tone. "What kind of mess have you got yourself into?"

_What happens in the dark comes into the light._

"Something you like to confess, _pervert_?" She continues twirling Lucy's panties.

My sin has become exposed. I shut my eyes and fade away into the world of black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sudden change in the midst. Find out in the next chapter of Children of A Lesser God. Pleasure subscribe, kudos, comment and/or bookmark. Thanks and God bless!


	3. Lying with the Serpent

Lust is a temptation and an evil that overcomes many of us. It is of Satan and delivered to our flesh. No matter how anyone looks at it, every single one of us will be attested to lust. If we are to overcome it, then we are strong. We should. No, we must resist lust. We must be strong. We must be able to resist it. We must strengthen ourselves.

How true is that?

The Bible states that no sins are greater than the other in the eyes of God. The Bible also states when you repent for your sin, then it is forgettable under the eyes of the Lord. How true is that? Nothing is unforgettable. Maybe God put in the back burner, but the people around don't. They latch around you like parasites; consuming any resonance of your being before you are nothing.

Nothing, but the pitiful, wretched sinner I am.

They look in your face. They whisper behind you in church. They are not like everyone who condemns right away. They serve you a penance. They come in smiles. They come when you need them the most. Instead of consoling you, they filled themselves with information to use against you. So, once again. If the Lord forgives and forgets, why not man?

Behind the sinner's prayer is the slithering tongue of the serpent. It edges around you when you are not looking. The Bible is right. Keep up with your shield or else the serpent comes and envelopes you while you are sleeping.

The old saying is true. Warning does come before destruction.

It rattles and coils around you. Slithering with such a painful grasp, bring indentures that provides you with so much detriment. Once it has hold of your body, it goes for the rest. Your mind and your soul. And once it requisitions it, then it has full control.

You are probably thinking on how in the hell does this philosophy entails where I am currently facing-a lot.

My mother is right. The boogeyman is real.

The darkness that surrounds my room hides her smile. You know she is laughing. It is how she is breathing that displays it. I once heard in class when one sense fails, the others get stronger. She is like this whenever there is trouble. Rather yet, when she brings trouble.

There is another side of Lori than many people don't know. A side that only a certain people have witnessed and have regrettably succumbed to. I have seen it once. She locked eyes on me that time. It was in her bedroom. We were home alone. I wasn't the participant, but some detritus human being was. Poor soul, poor fool, I lamented.

And no, folks. Bobby was not in the picture. _Poor soul, poor fool._

You have to understand something. A person can display whatever they want to display. Especially if brings benefits. She entrances many men and others who becomes bedazzled by her personality, her charm, her words, and her body. The latter of which is the prime bidder in her auction of deceit. I am cautious to use those words. For I am not innocent under those terms. I use my body in deceit. Partaking the fruit of an incestuous act over my dear, beloved sister.

I have cried many nights. Soaking the linen of my pillows. Tugging hard around my mattress. Inhaling the fumes of the forbidden womanhood. Relishing my hot breath to provide moisture to any remnants of her womanhood. The budding of her nectar provides so much for me. It is lovely. So lovely that I still gather whatever I can use by soaking my bed with another type of liquid.

God, forgive this soul for being a pervert.

I question my conscious every God damned day.

_That is because you are no different than I, Lincoln. You feed this lust to provide yourself with the nourishment of your dear sister. Why can't you accept it?_

Of course not. I always say. You are wrong.

_Whatever, Lincoln, Whatever. And oh, by the way. It will be best to clean yourself after you finish your unholy communion of Lucy's holy wine. You may not want to attract attention from the others. And with those hollow walls, someone is listening._

Bullshit, I told myself. Forgive me, Lord for my vulgarity. The darkness within tries to consume me, but I fight it. With you before me, who can be against me? Right? Right?

I heard three snaps of a finger.

"Lincoln, Lincoln," she tells me. I am alert. I look up at her.

"Yes," I answer.

"Lincoln, Lincoln," she says again. I see her nod in a condescending way. She clicks her tongue in a way of a disagreement. She is shaming me, condemning me. She is showing what many people don't see.

"Care to explain yourself," she questions me. It is in a teasing way. My knees begin to buckle. Sweat descends down my loins. I am going to collapse. Being caught is the last thing I shouldn't expect.

_If walls can talk. If walls can talk. Those hollow walls are the downfall of your existence, Lincoln. Tsk, tsk, tsk. What happens in the dark, comes to the light._

My mouth becomes unhinged. No words can be produced. My hands were caught in the cookie jar. The forbidden jar that is the sweetness of Lucy.

"Since you can't talk," she tells me while kicking her legs. She is wearing her pajamas. However, these pajamas are tighter than usual. They hug around her body. Wrapping around every orifice of her body. Detailed as it can be. And the more I am describing this, am I observing her the same way I am doing my younger sister?

Lord, help me?

She snaps her fingers again. This time closer to my face. She grips my chin to get her attention.

"What's the matter," asks Lori. "Does the cat have your tongue? Catch your redhanded that you are speechless?" She looks at the panties. "Or, you are still drunk under the fumes of our dear sister, little brother?"

"I can explain," I told her.

"Explain what," she retorts. She swirls the panties and stretches it out. I feel embarrassed. "Explain that my perverted brother was getting off to his sister. Not only that, your younger sister. What the hell is the matter with you, your pervert." The last part rolls off the tip of the tongue in a stinging matter. Like a two-edged sword splitting me in have.

_You are a pervert, Lincoln._

I am not, I tell myself.

_Pervert! Lecherous! Creep!_

I grip my head. Make it go away, God. Make it go away.

She steps from my bed and walks around. She observes me. She is studying. I know what she is doing. She does the same thing with the others. She takes a breath and closes her eyes.

For a moment, I saw darkness. No pupils. No expression. A demon resonances in the night in the shell of my older sister.

"It looks like you have a dilemma, Lincoln." She says while prancing with the garment in her hand. "I have always known you were "off," but not to these measures."

I remain silent.

"Then yet again, I should not be surprised." She comes to me and stretches the panties. She dangles it in my face, taunting me. Reminding me on the agony I have confided in myself for quite a time.

_And you call yourself a genius. Bullshit, Lincoln. Can your God get you out of this funk? Get it funk. You know from Lucy…._

I grit my teeth in this hidden, spiritual battle with my mind and the confrontation of this physical battle in front of me.

_An unholy trinity. What's next? Baptize yourself in the lake of fire? Better yet, consume the naked flesh of your Snow White sister? Drinking her ominous, clear nectar should nourish you._

"How long?" I say.

"How long?" She retorts.

"How long?" Each time I speak, my voice fades. I am now on my knees.

"Time is not a factor for this, little brother," she says. "However, I wonder how much time you have before I tell mom and dad about this."

My eyes are widened by her fearsome threat. My lips quiver and I am trembling.

"Mom, dad?"

_The fuck are you thinking with your damned cliches? You are like putty to her, you imbecile!_

"Luna, Luan, Lily, Lisa, Lena, Lucy," she says with a climactic build to the latter of the names. "Shall I carry on with more."

_What happens in the dark, comes in the light. What are you gonna do, the man with the plan? She has you red handed. Can't say I didn't warn you._

Tears want to leak. Something was to be released. A scream, a shout, flatulence, something.

With nothing else to say, I falter.

I go on my knees and kneel at her feet.

"Please," I shriek. So, I do release something. "Don't go to mom and dad. Don't tell them." I feel the sweat evacuating my pores. As much I want to keep composure, it fails. "Don't tell them," I beg to her as the wholesome judge. "Please don't tell the others. Especially Lucy."

She raises her eyebrows. It shows uncertainty, but only for a moment. For a moment.

"Gullible little brother," she says. She returns to the bed. "Such a dilemma you got yourself into."

I look confused and slight rise up to see her.

I am still silent.

She wraps her hand beside my face. I can fill my face redden, but at the same time, I am becoming colder.

"Since you have this dilemma, then maybe you can solve something for me," she says.

"Anything," I tell her.

She reaches for the panties and takes a smell. Her face furrows by the scent, but at the same, it shows excitement.

"Tomorrow night, I will come back here," she says. "We will talk."

"Talk about what," I ask.

"I will let your mind wonder on that," she says. "However, I suggest not to do anything "harsh" with yourself tonight."

_Oh, shit!_

"Consider tonight to be a preliminary for what is to come," she says. "I will explain more, but the fun in the unknown is more exciting than knowing." She giggles.

She stands up from the bed and heads for the door.

"Get some sleep, little brother," she tells me. "Because tomorrow we are starting phase two of our program."

"Program," I question.

"You will see," she replies.

She puts her hand on the door and turns. "One more thing. Did you ask me on how long? Your question should have been on how I found out."

I become perplexed.

"I have never thought you will think of Lucy like that. Really?"

I become red.

She looks at the panties. "Also, Lucy doesn't wash on Wednesdays."

"What?"

"I said Lucy doesn't wash on Wednesdays."

"What are you saying?"

"I won't say much. I have early days. I know you do. Easy as that."

She opens the door.

"By the way, how did I taste?"

My eyes become widened. My mouth becomes agape. I begin feeling a wetness coming from my pants. She winks at me before departing out to the hallway and closes the door. The demons applaud at her exit, demanding for an encore.

I stand there feeling confused.

I lie. It is there. I can't accept it. I still can't. It feels unreal.

_**Did you ask me on how long? Your question should have been on how I find out.** _

It brings me back to the day when I caught her in her bedroom.

How long?

How long?

How long?

_I can't imagine what scripture in the Bible tells you on how to overcome that. You are trapped._

The walls do talk. I became another participant in her trap. A trap that she has carefully set for me.

The boogeyman is real.


	4. A Fallen Saint

"Have you ever been depressed or something?"

We are only a couple of streets away from her house when Ronnie Anne asks me that question. It catches me off-guard. It is as if, as if….

_As if she is catching on to your sin? You are an easy read, Lincoln._

"Does my face expresses it or something?" I tell her. My cheeks are flushed. Although red and filled to the ears. The expression contrasts within of the shivers lingering in my spine.

She shakes her head. "No, that's not it." She stops at the stop sign and makes a sharp turn to my direction. "Just curious is all."

I ponder on her question.

"Is something the matter?" Way to go, Lincoln, I tell myself. Direct the attention off of me and back to her. I mean, she is the one who initiated the question.

_Coward!_

She stammers but relaxes. "Nothing is the matter with me. It is just. It is just."

"Just what?" I ask her.

"I am sorry," she says. "I apologize for being so much out of the blue. I mean, do you ever feel that way?"

_Ronnie Anne, you have no idea of what box you have opened. Pandora would be so proud of you, dear._

"I guess I feel sad sometimes," I tell her. I am lying through my teeth. "We all do."

"Yeah, I guess," she explains.

We cross the street and make another turn. We are a few houses away from her home. The sounds of spring linger in the frosted chill. It is not in the temperature but in the change around it. Small, white petal break ground near the trees that are adjacent to the park. Mosquito hawks make a round or two. Even a sound of bee makes its announcement. Even the changes in our body, but that is another road that I have unfortunately have and will explore.

_Readers, he is mentioning the fact that the smells of Lucy. Excuse me, the smells of Lori have changed. Even the enchanting smell vibrates maturity. Isn't that right, Lincoln?_

I clench my fist. Not enough for Ronnie Anne to see it. On the surface level, she is supposedly my girlfriend.

_Are you sure_?

"Lincoln, are you listening?" She alerts my attention. Amazing how your mind can drift away. Even when your girlfriend is right in front of you.

"I am," I retort. "You are explaining about depression. But there is nothing in our age to be depressed about."

I further explain.

"Granted we have all have sad moments in our lives. I remember the time when I have embarrassed you in front of our classmates at school. I lied about my feelings I have for you. Seeing the tears drop your face made my heart drop. It saddens me when I see you cry."

_Casanova, you are a swell author. Keep it up!_

"Making a bad grade, losing a loved one, doing things that are wrong for the sake of wrong; sometimes we get sad. But I think the only difference is what we make of these situations."

She puts her finger on her lip. She looks surprised by my comment.

"You are okay with me, you weirdo," she finishes with a smile. "Never mind about what I have said."

I don't go any further. If she drops it, then it is done. Like a wise man once told me. "If the cake is baked, then serve it." I continue walking with her to her house. We are on the front porch. Her parents are not at home. They never are. I have mentioned to her on when I am going to meet them. She often jokes that she is not sure that she hasn't met them. Busy people, I concluded.

"Thanks for taking me home," she says.

"No problem," I smile. I beat my chest as if I were a superhero. Better yet a knight in an armor that contains rusted lies and deceit. I am such a failure. Chivalrous, yeah right.

She puts her hand on the knob. Before I could turn, she grabs my hand. Her soft, moist, glistening hand waver around my palm. It doesn't take long before she seals the deal with a kiss. Her lips were soft. Softer than the fabric of my….

Let me stop and savor this moment.

_Yeah, savor he says. Does Ronnie Anne know what you do with that mouth?_

We break the kiss. It lasted thirty seconds. Just a few seconds longer than the kiss before. And the kiss before that. And the kiss before that.

She whispered goodbye before she enters the home. She leaves alone on her front porch. Along with my demons. Along with my lies. Along with many things.

I suck as a boyfriend.

I walk far enough so she could not see me in the distance. I am not ready to go home yet. Although I don't expect trouble for another hour. The blessings of being a high school senior. Also, Bobby is taking her out to a cafe for dessert. Poor fool, I tell myself.

And I say this because Bobby is a great guy. I am very reserved when my sisters bring men into the home. Can't help it. Too much of my father in me.

_Can't imagine which side of the family did you inherit your perversion. Rita? Lynn? Pop-Pop?_

"Shut up!" The shriek I make alert the birds from the bushes to scatter. The dogs bark from the distance. I feel hollowed, especially in voice. Exhausted from the projection I made. Exhausted from the frustration I have inside.

There is a diner not too far from Ronnie's place. Not really a hop and a skip, but not too far from my home. The bell on the door alerts the customers. Not many turn their heads. These are regulars. The few who are returning from work or on their way to work. You know the type. They are the ones that are invisible. No one knows about them unless they wanted to be known about something. The voices of the twilight and the night. They give us what they need and what do they get in return?

I empathize with you from the pores of my head to the soles of my feet. That isn't right, but this is my story.

"What can I get for you today, sugar?" It comes from the same woman. Her eyes are hollowed. I jokingly tell myself that she must have tunnel vision. She wears the same tattered, red and white checkerboard apron. The grease spots from yesterday and I swear from the week before, are present. Her obsession with makeup is smudged. Very smudged. I have met kindergarteners with better set up. Heck, my youngster sister can do better. And she can't pick sounds and letters without mention the word, _poop_.

_You have a lot of talk about someone. At least she doesn't have to smell or taste someone else's shit._

I shake my head in disregarding my thoughts. The waitress peers over me with a certain disdain. As if she is the one waiting for me to disappear. I could elaborate further, but I want my order and I can go home.

"Hi. I would like to have a carton of Hi-Lites," I tell her.

She scratches under her chin. The dead skin goes along as she rubs her hands on her apron.

"Filter or nonfiltered," she exhausts her question to me. The hotness of her breath looms around me. I wondered how King Arthur was feeling when combating the dragon?

"Filter, please," I explain to her.

She turns away and goes to the kitchen to retrieve my order.

So you know, no longer do they sell cigarettes at the counter anymore. There have been reports of many teenagers misusing it. Many come by, but they don't stay long. The manager has a strong abhorrence of teenagers without accompanied by a parent.

The thread is loosely hanging as well. She is making daggers at me as we speak. I don't want to turn around. Medusa is not taking me away.

The waitress nudges me with the Hi-Lites. I pay her in quarters. The way she looks me as if I have ruined her day. I mean, heck, if I looked as if Louie Anderson and Kathy Bates conceived me, then I would hate myself too.

I quietly thank her and I depart from the diner.

I take a look of my cell phone. It is a few minutes after four. My parents should be home in an hour. My sisters should be home or on their way home.

Lori.

Well, let's just say that Lori comes and goes. For as long she is home before curfew. Somewhere in the drawer of my parent's nightstand has a calendar of Lori's departure to college.

My mom calls it puberty. My father calls it rebellion.

I call it for what I see it, denial.

_Birds of a feather flock together. A Loud you definitely are, Lincoln._

With a few minutes to spare, I find an area in the park where I can take a rest. Behind the men's restroom is where I engage in my smoking session.

Yes, it has been a few months since I began exchanging my woes with these carcinogens. Counsel the pain away, I keep telling myself. Of course, it is lies. Lies from the wolf.

_You giving yourself too much credit. More like a sheep._

"Shut up, you fuck."

_A mouse, but that's too meek. That is still giving you too much credit._

"Shut the hell up!"

_A cockroach? Bottom-feeder, yeah, that is much better for you._

I only smoke one. I don't want this to become an addiction. I don't want anything else adding to the Lincoln roster. I sit quietly behind the restroom when I get a text.

I pull out my cellphone. I close my eyes. Lori leaves a text message.

_Hey, you lurch. This is your benefactor. I hope you had a great sleep. I know I did. Anyway, you have been on my mind all day long. Have I, my dear perverted brother? Did you do what I have told you to do last night? You better not. I can tell. I am a girl and I am very acquainted with downstairs if you know what I mean. But anyway, tonight I have something exciting for us. I am looking forward to tonight. As a recommendation, I suggest not to eat too much tonight. And try to get to bed a little early. I want you to be rest up because you won't be getting too much sleep._

_Wish I can talk more, but Kevin is waiting for me. So, talk to you later._

_Lori._

_XOXO_

I have met Kevin once. He is a guitar player in a garage band. He also enjoys Afro-Cuban music. He once told me in a drunken stupor that my sister can play a "mean skin flute."

Her personal life, my "issues" with Lucy, and now Lori are added into the list. A list of sin. And that is what is called, sin.

Ashes flutter in the wind. They land on the ground in front me.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The ground where we came from is where we shall return," I say aloud.

I put my cellphone back in my pocket. I flick the cigarette away. Amazing that it lands in the trash. Either that is good luck or an omen.

Enough being philosophical. I put my cigarettes in my backpack. I dust myself off and make my way out of the park.

As I make my way to the street, Ronnie Anne's question lingers on my mind. And yes, Ronnie Anne. Depression is something serious. I have laid down my burden on numerous occasions. Smearing it on garments after garments. We can live such a dramatic life.

I shake my head and keep walking. The street lights are coming home. They are expecting me. _She_ is expecting me.

"Forgive me, Lord."

_Lincoln is more gullible than he lets himself on. Poor fool, he did not even know that his sister was only a few feet away. The park tends to have teenagers around this time. But, alas, when you live in your own world, everything else tends to falter._

_However, that is another story._


	5. Tempt Thy Faithful (Part I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. Big Diesel here. I hope that you enjoy this chapter of Children of A Lesser God. Warning: this chapter contains issues of religious conflict and religious guilt. Please be advised. Also, I have decided to delete the previous chapter, "An Unholy Trinity." Honestly, I didn't care for the chapter and thought of it as irrelevant to the story. However, I do plan to use the material of that chapter into one of my stories, or in a one-shot. Haven't decided when, but it will put to use. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and continue to support me. Thanks, once again, and God bless!

Mom tucks me in. She kneels over me to plant a kiss on my forehead. Something about a comfort of a parent. We have taken them for granted in so many ways. She lets out a smile. A smile I have always loved to see. A warm, pleasant smile that reminds that there shouldn't be anything to fear. I often think she is something of omnipotence. She is a superwoman, I have formally declared. She can do anything. She can protect me. She knows all.

Or so I thought.

"Lincoln, you have barely touched your food," she tells me. Her wavering smile fades away. In comes the role of concerned mother. She rubs her hand on my forehead. She leans closer. "It doesn't feel as though you are sick."

Can't tell her the truth. I am feeling uneasy. Uneasy to the fact that I am lying to a woman I have always secretly compared her to God. A superwoman she is in my heart. My stomach feels queasy.

Do I have to explain? When I returned home, she left me a list of instructions on my bed.

I was in the bathroom for quite some time.

So, of course, I am feeling uneasy.

"I am fine, mom," I lie to her. "Just had a big lunch at school today. That's all."

I lied. I have lied to her.

"Holy grace," she cried. "Someone, other than me, is putting love in my dear boy's stomach? I feel I can faint."

_There are other things that are filling his stomach, mom. Careful not to touch the sides. Or else!_

You are not the only one that wants to faint, mom.

I shrug my shoulders. "No one can make any spectacular dish like you, mom. You are always the best of the best." I smile. I smile. I. Smile.

She rubs my white hair, smoothing out any layers sticking out. She purses her lips. Mothers tend to do that when something is off. And she has every right. With her fingertips, she rubs my palm.

"Are you sure you are okay," she asks with such curiosity. "Nothing to get out of your chest? You know, you are more than welcomed to tell me anything. Just between us. Your father does not have to know." She closes her eyes and releases a sigh before removing her smooth palm from my hand.

Part of me wants to return it where it belongs. A primal connection between mother and son.

The feeling in my gut wants to expel. It wants to release. It aches me to spill out your feelings to her. She is right there. I can end this right now. I can confess and get this over with. I can. I can….

There is a knock at the door. I tilt my head and my eyes become widened. I slowly tilt my head over the covers.

"Hello, Lori," cries my mom.

"Hey, mom," says Lori.

"Surprised to see you home," she says. "And on time as well."

Lori waves her arms. "You know, just wanted to be home. Don't see as much of my family nowadays."

"If you quit missing curfew and being out at all times of the night, then maybe you can spend time with us instead of those boys," exclaims my mom.

She has her hands on her hip. The moment when mother is now being the responsible adult.

_Bullshit! To you, to her, and Lori. Bullshit for all of you._

"Mom, you don't have to be so motherly," she tells her in a condescending tone. "I am on time. That is all that matters. So, what is the fuss?"

"The fuss is that your rendezvous throws everything out of frustration," she explains. "What kind of example are you setting for your younger siblings?"

"You are being too expressive," Lori says.

Cold for being so nonchalant, Lori.

"Expressive that my daughter is being a harlot," cries my mom.

"Such an ancient word, mom," coys Lori. "This is a different era. So catch up."

Mom stops. She no longer wants to argue nor further this discussion.

"Just get to bed on time, for once," she tells Lori.

I don't see, but I can feel Lori looking over my mom to see what is wrong with me.

"Anything wrong with Linc," she asks my mom.

"I think he is not feeling well," she tells Lori. "Big lunch, he told me."

She lightly awes. She walks closer to me. She leans in my direction. I am pretending to be asleep.

"My poor big brother," she pouts. There is a hint of insincerity in her voice. "I hope your stomach feels okay."

I tense up as she rubs the side of my stomach. I quickly fasten my legs.

"Let him get some sleep," explains my mom. "He should feel better in the morning."

Lori leans away from me. "You're right, mom." She follows my mom behind the door. Before she leaves, she is talking to my mom. But in honesty, she is really talking to me.

"In the olden times, enemas were a good method of a stomachache," she says.

Lori cuts off the lights.

"Sweet dreams, you pervert."

The lights are out. I am all alone. Consumed with my thoughts, my regrets, and the feeling in my guts that wants to come out.

I continue to lie on my stomach. It is the best position for now. For I know won't be long when Lori returns for part two of our act.

I can't sleep. The clock on my nightstand shows eleven in the evening. I am fearful. That is the best way to describe myself, fearful.

I turn on the light and retrieve my bible. As always, it is bookmarked on the scriptures of lust. My fingers, rather yet God or my demons turn to the book of Psalm. One scripture sticks out to me.

It questions my fallible faith.

_**I will not look approval on anything that is vile. I hate what faithless people do; I will have no part in it.** _

It is a quote from Psalm 101: 3.

_Some God. if he was such a savior, then he will guide you in the right direction. Just face it, Linc, your God is the reason why you are in this mess. If he made sex, then why he is condemning it?_

"I stand faith to my God. For if we can withstand any test, then all is possible. We shall pass."

_Faith. Okay, Lincoln. I can work with you on this "faith." So, you are telling me that all of this is God's plan? To make you a better person? Excuse me, to make you a better sheep in his flock. To withstand any obstacle and challenges. So, that one day you can be admitted into the kingdom of heaven. Oh my God, Lincoln. Even Christ is saying, "Christ, that sounds like a load of bull…."_

"Don't you ever say the name of the Lord in vain," I shout.

_Are you hearing yourself? You must realize that even I have the same attainable knowledge of the Bible. I am you. You must know that I can interpret scripture as well. Let me see, let me see. Okay, here is one. In the book of James, it says in Chapter 1, verses 14 and 15, it says "But each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire is conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death."_

I keep quiet.

_Aww, what's the matter, Lincoln? Cat caught your tongue? Someone pluck your heartstring? Or are you feeling the purge of your stomach wanting to expel the waste of your sin._

"Shut up," I say.

_All alone in the lone bathroom in the house._

"Shut up," I say again.

_Let you with a plan to prepare for tonight._

"Leave me alone."

" _Insert the pipe from the douche in your ass. You must cleanse any contents. Don't want any fecal matter on my hands."_

"Stop it."

" _Fill the water to full capacity. Make sure it is warm. Makes it very easy when it enters your ass."_

"I beg of you, stop!"

" _Pump all of the contents into your ass. It should be very filling in your stomach. After douching yourself, go into the bottom cabinet under the sink. Mom keeps a suppository bottle in there. She really has bad constipation, so you know."_

"Enough with this bullshit!"

" _Be careful, it is slippery. Careful to grace around your rosebud. Then, insert it into your ass. After it is done, you will come down for dinner. Now, I have told you not to eat too much. But, I want you to act natural. Also, look at Lucy a few times for me. Make sure you get a good look at your nubile sister. From the hairs of her body to the soles of her feet. From in and out of her dress. I know you want her, Lincoln. To taste her, to crave her. Such supple breast she has. I have seen it a few times whenever we were naked. Didn't know you had a thing for flat chest. Could have figured you wanted something to grab like mine. No matter, you don't get much a choice of that matter. Or unless you want the family to know. So, don't be stupid without taking the chance of desolation and isolation from our dear family. And I know you, you desire family like the soiled panties you consumed next to your bible. Pity, to think that God can save you from your flesh. If God condemns flesh and calls it a sin, then why invent it. I still thank him or Satan, whatever. Just be ready for me tonight. Because I am coming."_

I am feeling ill. I am feeling the contents leaking from my ass. I know it is staining my boxers and eventually the bed. I can't take it any longer. I ran from my bed, out of the door, and into the quiet hallway.

I can't hold it any longer. I run as much as I can without disturbing my family before heading into the bathroom. I make it inside and expel all of the contents into the toilet.

It is done. All of my shame, all of my detriment, all of my frustration. All of everything is in that toilet. I have a sigh of relief. I wipe my ass before discarding it into the toilet. I flush the toilet, but I don't leave.

I didn't realize that…. I didn't realize that…. I didn't realize that….

_Walls can talk._

I am shaking, trembling. Knowing that trouble is dawning before me. I cough. It feels hard to breathe. I keep straightforward to the door. My eyes are alert on the knob. Because if I turn my head further, then I will feeling the hotness of Lori drawing under me.

Lori is here. She hid behind the curtain of the shower. Her sky blue nightshirt is nowhere to be seen. Her crystal blue eyes schemes in the combination of darkness and silhouette. She is wearing nothing. However, she has one particular item. Swinging and swinging and swinging in her hand.

"Lori," I simply say.

"A wonderful evening," she says. "A wonderful view." She adds. Her tone is alluring. Her eyes never leave my sight. She continues to swing the garment that got me into this mess.

She tosses the garment at me. It lands on my lap. I don't want to look. I will not look.

I hear a sneeze. I flinch. I turn my head to her.

"That wasn't me," she smirks.

I become flushed when she extends the curtain. My mouth becomes agape.

"Bless you," says another girl.

She, too, is also naked. Her seafoam green nightgown is nowhere to be seen. Her crystal blue eyes are hidden within the darkness of the bathroom. She sits in the tub, covering her body from her nakedness. She is blushing, especially when she is seeing me. Her long, pale blonde hair sleeks in the light from the window.

It does not take a genius to realize that it is my beloved sister, Leni.

"Hello, Leni," I tell her.

"Hey, Linc," she tells me while blushing.

_Oh, tempt ye thy faithful._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading this chapter. Just as a reminder, I am a man of faith and a Christian. This story is a work of fiction. Just a reminder for those who were offended from some of the parts. Aside from that, seems like Lori has another ace up her sleeve. Stay tuned and find out on the next chapter of Children of A Lesser God. Thanks and God bless!


	6. Tempt Thy Faithful (Part II)

I think the hardest part of confronting your demons is the now what? Now what should I do? It is like a barrel of the gun facing your head. At any point, you are going to hear the sound of thunder, the recoil from the trigger and the speed of the bullet impacting your skull. Hearing that wouldn't be much of a longevity. You are dead and gone at that point. Then yet again, I don't know what the hell I am talking about. I think I build up excuses because it helps shield away the truth. Like adding layers of jackets to protect you from the cold. Like putting a bandage over a wound that requires professional assistance. Better yet, putting play dough on a cracked dam. At some point, everything will crumble. The sounds, falling like a deck of cards, or dominoes. It all falls down. All things fall apart. And there is not a thing damn to do to stop it. We all have to sit still and take it.

The hardest part of confronting your demons. They smile like you and I. They know expressions; anger, pain, sadness, doubt, despair. Anything to feed into their void. It fills the pit of their stomach like a homemade meal made from the finest ingredients. Simmering in a pot and ready to serve at the perfect opportunity. Then yet again, I still try to find an excuse to hide the pain. Pain that I have been feeling for quite some time. The demon inside is festering on my spirit, consuming the lies I am talking, but applying aide to deny it.

God, I am such a mess.

_Oh, you now put your savior's name in vain._

The Lord is my strength and my provider. With that, who should I fear?

_Do you think applying that strength is going to protect you? By saying such things, you will be covered in his mercy? Do you think so, Lincoln?_

The spirit of the Lord is within me. He covers me and protects me from the pitfalls of life's detriments.

_Protecting you from the pitfalls of life's detriments? I must compliment your teacher for such candid vocabulary words. Or, is that from the lovely reverend of your church. The same reverend that serves to his parishioners outside of church hours? The very one that caters to the wives and the single women at his whim? At least he doesn't hide behind closed doors or in the darkness like you. Oh, tempt ye faithful is the question of they will, Lincoln. Motherfuck your reverend and all the lies that he is telling you. You know and I know that we live in this sin. Embrace it, Lincoln. Like the two young lovelies standing in front of you. Basked in the nakedness. I see them clothed in the darkness of their truest form. Their skin, smooth like porcelain, like the finest of quality. Their nubile bodies asking to be touch and to be corrupted by the felonious of people. This is your path, Lincoln. Your mark. Embrace it like you do with Lucy with her undergarments._

Lori interrupts my thought as she steps out of the bathtub. Her eyes display excitement. She knows what is going on in this particular juncture. Her body comes to my direction. She presses herself upon me; rubbing her legs against me. Her breasts touch my chest. I can feel her lingering smile. That pestering lingering smile she haunts me in my dreams.

The same pestering lingering smile that is exciting my middle man upstairs.

The Lord is my strength and my provider. With that, who should I fear.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." She shakes her head in disappointment. She swings her finger. Like she was scolding a child from wrongful behavior. I am a child and I am being scolded. I know the reason and the reason is inside of the toilet. "Lincoln, you promised me to wait until I tell you the time is right. Do you want me to punish you before the training begins."

"No, miss...I mean no ma'am." My legs want to cave in. They are trembling like gelatin. I am saying that because she slides a finger from my shalt until the phallus of my penis. She rubs there a little, making me tremble more. She quiets me. She notions Leni to come to her assistance. Leni follows her command without a second of spare thinking.

"What do you want of me, mistress." Leni wears an invisible collar. Well, at least to you guys it is. But, I can see the rope attached. She gives Lori the look of master. How a dog gets when the owner has a requests. The dog have an order and must be followed. That is their purpose, they were trained. How long did Lori trained Leni? There is more than sisterly love, bonding, and living together beyond that door. I am drained of whatever nefarious deed Lori did to put Leni on her side.

Now, I digress.

"I need you to take care of Lincoln for me, my pet. Will you obey these orders." Lori asks, better yet, commands Leni on this task. I yelp as I feel her cold hands caressing my butt. She spreads it, which I feel a rush of cool air entering my rectum. I bite my lip on contact. It helps to mask the pain. Lori can tell. It pleases her.

"Cleanse the inside of Lincoln's ass for me, my pet." She tells Leni.

"Yes, mistress. That will be such an honor."

"In your position, it will please me. Now do it."

I turn to Leni to deny it, but Lori catches my chin with her finger. She rubs fervently, focusing my attention on her. "Because I am in such a good mood today. I am going to let your accident off the hook." She turns to Leni. "Begin licking."

I feel a wet, moist tongue enter the cavern of my ass. I take a sharp breath as she takes her hands and embellishes her face inside of my ass. I bite my lip again, drawing blood. Lori watches my move. She sits there seeing the feeling. She is reading me, studying me, preparing for what she is going to do to me.

"Go deeper, pet," says Lori.

She goes in further, cleaning any particles there is left in me. I begin to hear a muffled moan from my older sister. Is she..is she enjoying this?

"She is good. Isn't she?" Lori furrows her face, emitting a slight laugh. "She acts like a personal bidet whenever I need a cleansing myself. This should be a privilege to you. Enjoy it. Notices how she goes into the deepest of your cavern. She knows how to get to hard to reach places. If you want, she can even touch your sweet spot."

I do not say a word. I won't any way. My small moans and my middle man are answering for me.

_Oh, tempt ye thy faithful, Lincoln._

"Do you feel every inch of her piping hot tongue in your ass," she asks me with a devilish grin. "Her muscles making you feel good? I can tell. Your knees are buckling. You are clenching your ass. I have done this with many man. You are not the first. However, I do have some other plans in the works." She turns to Leni. "Now, make him cum. I will help as well."

I close my eyes. She slaps me. "Now, you aren't allow to shut yourself away. Your eyes are to be on me. If you shut them again, I will hit you. And no, it won't be a slap."

I listen to her. Her face shows sternness. I silently obey as I look at her.

"Thank you, you pervert." She tells me as she strokes my dick. She starts at the shaft and makes her way to my phallus. A spool of her saliva makes contact with my dick. She uses it as lubricant to stroke my dick. I am moaning, but I tuck my lip in. I don't want the others to hear.

_Good point, Lincoln. You don't want your parents to see. Your sisters to see. Lucy. Yet again, the eyes of God is watching this, Lincoln. Where is he, Lincoln? Can he save you? Can he come down from this pedestal to rescue you?_

The Lord is my strength and my provider. With that, who should I fear.

I keep telling myself that as I am sandwiched with my sisters. Both of them at once, hitting me in spots that makes me weak. The laughter released from my sister. Her hot breath looming on me. Leni tasting whatever contents I had within my rosebud. She grips with all of her might. I am panting. I cover my hand to catch my breath. I don't want them to hear a noise. The family I mean.

The family I love. The family who sleeps beneath their quilts. Nestled and sleeping the sleep of innocents. Whereas the corrupted is confined in the bathroom committing sins that God is watching. I ask him for forgiveness. Hail Mary, full of grace.

Lori's eyes draw to me. She keeps her smirk on her face. She continues jerking me until I began climaxing in silence. I am stumbling, but Leni holds on. She continues to lick me until my orgasms stops. Lori collects the semen that I leave on her hand.

She chuckles, staring at my contents on her soiled hand. "You were really backed up. If I wouldn't know better, I would think this has happened to you before."

I shake my head in disagreement. I look away as she dangles with my semen in between her hand. I hear her instructing Leni to come on clean her hand. I stare at the window as the moon begin hiding behind the clothes. I think it too is ashamed for the act it has unfortunately witness.

I return my sights to my sisters. Lori stood as Leni licked the remaining contents of my semen. She returns to her place at the foot of Lori's feet, awaiting her orders.

"Come, my pets. There is more we have to do. The night is still young." Lori reaches into the cabinet drawer where she pulls a diamond studded collar. Leni lifts her head where Lori puts it in place. Then, I see her have a plain black collar. She gives it to Leni. "Put it on his neck." I try to back away, but Lori puts her foot on my dick, with fierce pain on contact. "Do you really want to test my patience."

I whimper out a "no." She releases her foot from my penis, leaving a wincing, tingling pain. I shiver as I felt Leni's soft hands put my collar on my neck. I want to shed a tear, but Leni kisses me on my cheek.

"Don't cry, little brother," she tells me. She rubs my hair and kisses me again. "Everything is going to be fine. Just obey Mistress and you will be okay." Like a dog, she nudges me with her nose, telling me that I need to heel.

Confused as I try to register it into my head, Lori comes forward, but instantly I obey. I was in a heeling position. Lori softens her face. She returns to her demeanor. "Okay, my lovely pets." She looks at Leni. "Show Lincoln the way on how a pet obeys a master." I watch as Leni get on her knees. She is in a position as if she is actually a dog.

"Good girl," answers Lori. "Now, Lincoln. On your hands and knees."

Leni looks at me. Her face tells me to do the same thing or I will face trouble. It didn't register until I feel another slap on my face. I feel the impact as the ringing comes from my ear.

"On your hands and knees," she says with sternness.

_The Lord is my strength, Lincoln. With that, who should I fear? What load of bullshit!_

I receive another slap.

"On your hands and knees, now!"

I go into position. My hands and my knees feel the pressure of the cold bathroom floor. I am quiet. The slaps cause a tear to escape my eye.

I feel her adding another item to me. I hear something latch to my collar. It came to the realization as I saw Lori put a lease on Leni.

"Now, my pets. Let's go for a walk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After nearly five months, I have finally released a chapter. Stay tuned for more soon.


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